ground fog
blankets a rice field
stopping at the road
a bearded man cloak-shrouded
waits on the traffic
tanka by Lillian Susan Thomas
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Related quotes
Inspired by Issa - your rice field, my rice field
your rice field, my rice field
the road between that leads
to our dreams in tokyo
your rice field, my rice field
the road between that leads
to our sons in tokyo
inspired
your rice field
my rice field
the same green
-Issa,1815
poem by John Tiong Chunghoo
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The Mushera Fog
It steals down the mountain the Mushera fog
Across the mountain road and cloaks Togher Bog
On damp and wet days in Winter and the latter Fall
The traffic goes up and down road at a crawl
From the high road a steep dropp down the mountain side
And to drive fast there in the fog is a wish for suicide
But what a beautiful drive on a pleasant Spring day
When the hawthorns are in their white flowers of the May
A beautiful view of the countryside for miles around
As you drive up and down the high road on the higher ground
But from mid Fall to early Spring on damp weather of low cloud
The high Mushera road is cloaked in a gray shroud
As the low clouds of rain down the mountain side blow
For to cloak Togher Bog and the valley below.
poem by Francis Duggan
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On Sharing A Husband
Screw the fate that makes you share a man.
One cuddles under cotton blankets; the other's cold.
Every now and then, well, maybe or maybe not,
once or twice a month, oh, it's like nothing.
You try to stick to it like a fly on rice
but the rice is rotten. You slave like the maid,
but without pay. If I had known how it would go
I think I would have lived alone.
poem by Ho Xuan Huong
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Love Field
You lie so unfolded
In a love field
With your contempt for any modesty
In a love field
In a love field
In a love field
You yield with your lips still sealed
In a love field
Lost in a sea of imaginary women
Everything youd want
From the dawn to the dimming
Breath comes sharp and heart beats faster
In a love field
Cold ground for a pillow
Under a blanket of stars
In a love field
In a love field
In a love field
Headlights that startled
This embrace of hours
In a love field
In a crooked house
Where things can be arranged
You think youre different from the rest
But you dont see how youve changed
Under an archway
On a road of white linen
In a love field
Feel the anxious rhythm of a functional stranger
In a love field
In a love field
In a love field
Shes so tense but its never mentioned
In a love field
song performed by by Elvis Costello
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Hillman’s Lass
OVER the field where the grass is cool,
(Follow the road who must !)
With a song for the beech and the brown pool,
And the noiseless tread in the dust,
With a laugh for the lazy hours that go,
And the folk who pass us by.
(The trees they grow so broad, so low,
They shut me from the sky.)
Here be strawberries wild and sweet,
(Follow the road who may !)
And here's a rest for a bairn's feet
And a kiss at the close o' day.
And here's a cloud from the shining sea
Like a white moth in the night.
(On the edge o' the barley field, may be
The stars would show more bright.)
Cut me a flute where the reeds are brown.
(Follow the road who will !)
O, I'll dress you fair in a green gown
And a cloak that is finer still.
Your sleeves shall be o' the fairies' lawn,
Your shoon as red as the rose.
(Do you think that the wind which wakes at dawn
Will bring us a breath o' the snows ?)
O, the world's wide, and the world is long.
(Follow the road who may !)
And here's a lilt of the wild song
The Romany pipers play.
And 'Mine,' it sings, 'is the moon's shield,
And the cloak o' the cloud is mine.'
(Do you think that the lowland clover field
Is sweet as the upland pine ?)
poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
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Cold Wind Waits
though the frost is gone, the
cold wind waits.
the robin sings while the
cold wind waits.
a gentle breeze
now blows the wheat,
but a threat of rain
will change to sleet.
the summer slips and the
cold wind waits.
though the warm wind blows, the
cold wind waits.
the traffic crawls while the
cold wind waits.
it's dark too early,
winter too soon,
light of the sun
will change to moon.
the weather turns and the
cold wind waits.
(2011-Bolingbrook, IL)
poem by Mark Money
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The Poetry At Night Time And Beethoven's Piano Music
this is like playing the piano pieces
at night when everyone in the neighborhood is already sleeping,
they wonder if there is a ghost in this house
someone that cannot accept death someone that claims
an unfinished business
still roaming in limbo and plays the piano at night
they are all disturbed and will close their windows earlier
turn off the lights and retreat inside their thick blankets
the piano is heard and it is playing some pieces of Beethoven
the story of his death...
it is not the same with your poetry
all night long, you write, and there is no stopping and the neighbors think
that everything is all right
that the lights are on because there is a baby in the house
it is you that sob silently inside the limbo of your dreams
that refuse to die
roaming the streets at night
breathing the cold in the darkness
the following morning, nothing is changed
the neighbors as usual do their normal activities
the street is heavy with traffic
people are busy chasing the hours
and there is no stopping anymore.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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World is stopping,
World is stopping,
World is stopping all moving,
World is making all destruction,
World is stopping to see a Revolution,
World is stopping to see feigned verses Unfeigned,
World is stopping to see us dead to live,
World is stopping to see burdens Increase,
World is stopping to see us going to Hell,
World is stopping so that we do the Will of Truth,
That the Truth is a lie to many people,
But Truth is living by the will of the Unseen,
Since He does not exist,
He really does exist.
poem by Maxpoet Beauty
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Who's Stopping You
Take all that you've got
Multiply by zero
Divide by the time you've got left
That's x
Add it up write it down tell me what you've found
We're speaking in tongues
Both of us dumbfounded
Our brains have been impounded by our hearts
Life is so uncertain
Look at all the hurting that we've done
You said you had somebody better to become
Who's stopping you
Who's stopping you
Who's stopping you
Who's stopping you
We're wasting our time
Watching our old reruns
Waiting for the good one that never comes
You say it beats working
On the emptiness that's lurking inside your head
Step into the light my friend
Who's stopping you 4x
You said you had somebody better to become
Who's stopping you 8x
song performed by by Semisonic from All About Chemistry
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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City Of Angels
Shafting sunbeams. misty eddies,
towering, sculpted, shining chedis,
thundering traffic, six lane highways,
swampy, shabby, back-street by-ways,
mangoes, sticky rice, dom yams,
squeezed into the Mother of all Traffic Jams…..
www.bamboo-leaves.com
poem by Brian Taylor
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The 'Poem A Day' Project ~ Day 193
I’m a traffic cone up a tree
Someone on a drunken spree
With all of their might
Gave me new height
Here for all to see
I’m a traffic cone up a tree
Not really where I should be
I’m usually found
Much nearer the ground
Lined up uniformly
I’m a traffic cone up a tree
It makes me feel rather free
To have reached a place
No other cone’ll grace
Fills me with real glee
I’m a traffic cone up a tree
Plastic and bright orangey
I might catch the eye
Of some strange passer by
Who’ll write a poem about me
poem by Flying Lemming
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Rain drive
I see a big storm
hanging dark against the sky
and lightning bolts,
that hit smashing to the ground.
There are big drops
that hit whipping down
and the black road
wet and somewhat slippery.
There’s no way
to ride away from the storm
and the traffic
stand still in front of me,
but with a motorbike
you can cut past cars.
It’s as if clouds of steam
rise out of the hot tar road,
but the screen
of the helmet
is covered by the rain
that I have difficulty seeing
to were to go
and which cars are moving or standing.
With Soutpansberg avenue that lies open before me
I open the throttle
and there’s wind, rain
and thunders that fall flashing blue
around me
and resound somewhere behind the motorbike
and the rain on my hands
hits like hail.
.
The leather jacket keeps the top of my body dry and warm,
but the bottom
is soaked and wet
and I feel the coldness
rising from below.
There’s busses coming from the front
that throws water whipping
as far as they go
and somewhere in the left lane,
there’s cars stopping for a pothole
and my motorbike catches speed
past in the right lane.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Back The Way
(carly simon)
Back the way it was before
Before the door was opened
Back the way it was berfore
Before the ice was broken
Back the way it used to be
Everyone thought i was funny
But nobody ever asked me
If i wanted tiny little sandwiches
Sent up to my room
Back the way it was before
I was always waiting
Everybody thought i was okay
But now im scintillating
But the way it used to be
Some people thought i was pretty
But not many passes were made at me
Back the way it was before
But now my prayers are answered
And my star is on the rise
Flashbulbs popping, traffic stopping
Everyones my best friend
Back the way it used to be
Money was always a tyrant
I spent it all paying my rent
Back the way i was before
But now my prayers are answered
And my star is on the rise
Flashbulbs popping, traffic stopping
Everyones my best friend
Back the way it used to be
Sing a song of long ago
Back the way it used to be.
song performed by by Carly Simon
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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She waits for you across the river (8/20/11)
She waits for you across the river
In the soft untrammelled field
Beneath the warm sun
She waits to hold your head
as it rests upon her lap
To whisper the words remembered well
Sweet and smooth as promised grace
She waits for you across the river
Go to her now, call her name
She has made a place for you
beside her, with her, now is peace
Her hand reaches for yours, her lips call your name
Your battles are over, won or lost, it no longer matters
She awaits for you there, now is only love
Go to her, go to her and rest
Safe in the warmth of her love
Across the river
in the soft untrammelled field
He's Not Fond of Rice
She dresses nice and speaks with falsities.
But she's never without spring water.
She wants to give impressions like she's queen of deities.
But true leaders listening in are getting bored(er) .
She shops without stopping for those TV ops.
In the finest silk tailored suits.
And her hair doesn't move' cause it's glued!
He's not found of Rice.
Me neither.
It gets gummy on the plate when it's thickened.
Not too many cook it right.
And overnight it has lost many their appetites.
Some might like their Rice,
But I dislike it when it sickens.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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A Shared Fire
light the fire...
put on some coffee!
i care enough to listen,
if you care enough to talk.
the wall of angry silence
between us must fall....
this road is long,
and we have a long way to go!
what we feel when no one
can see us, when no one
else is near, when darkness
wraps us up in secretive blankets,
must come to light!
this world full of danger and hate,
the earth itself moans for change!
bodies walk by in ghostlike trance,
empty stares, feet moving without sound....
mouths open, waiting for deliverence....
the snowlike stillness swallows need,
new birth groans beneath frozen death....
we are the candle, we are the flame,
the road waits, as if a friend!
poem by Eric Cockrell
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Intoxication
Under osiers with ivy ingrown
We are trying to hide from bad weather.
I am clasping your arms in my own,
In one cloak we are huddled together.
I was wrong. Not with ivy-leaves bound,
But with hops overgrown is the willow.
Well then, let us spread out on the ground
This our cloak as a sheet and a pillow.
poem by Boris Pasternak
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Crosstown Traffic
You jump in front of my car
When you know all the time
That 90 miles an hour Girl Is the speed I drive
You tell me it's all right
You don't mind a little pain
You say you just want me to take you for a drive
You're just like CROSSTOWN TRAFFIC
So hard to get through you CROSSTOWN TRAFFIC
I don't need to run over you CROSSTOWN TRAFFIC
All you do is slow me down
But I'm tryin' to get on the other side of town
I'm not the only soul who's accused of hit and run
Tire tracks all across your back I can see you've had your fun
But a-darling
Can't you see my signal's turn from green to red
And with you I can see a traffic jam straight ahead
You're just like CROSSTOWN TRAFFIC
So hard to get through you CROSSTOWN TRAFFIC
I don't need to run over you CROSSTOWN TRAFFIC
All you do is slow me down
But I got better things on the other side of town
Yeah Yeah Crosstown traffic
Look out LOOK OUT Look out Baby
Coming through CROSSTOWN TRAFFIC
Yeah Yeah Look out CROSSTOWN TRAFFIC
Yeah Yeah LOOK OUT Look out Look out Baby
CROSSTOWN TRAFFIC LOOK OUT YEAH
song performed by by Hanson
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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On Somethings Unclear, Occluded, Clouded
what i tell you sometimes are clouded,
hazy, misty, something that you receive and always pregnant with
the other coming questions
which of course,
i cannot answer, by their very nature, i am telling you only what
i have seen, not even what i have heard from them
hearsay (i just suppress them, folding them like shirts
and blankets in my cabinet) but
i am telling you the truth
and your face moves sidewise more often in disbelief
how can such a man like me be so foolish talking nonsense
(on something always so incomplete
and impenetrable) , occluded, shrouded sometimes in mystery
our minds unable to cope up
our hands simply of no use
because we cannot touch them
our eyes too
unable to see, our sense of smell
in utter futility
i am not stupid, honey, some things by their very own nature
are incomplete, shrouded, mysterious,
and cannot be relayed by words, not even by thoughts
simply because they are
and we can do nothing about it, except
to see, and just be silent
because they are divine
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The Road To Happiness
A lonely road I walk on
with nobody around
just the trees in the distance
and the rocks and dirt on the ground.
I was told there was happiness
beyond, where this road goes
happiness is what I lack
and in my smile it shows.
this emotion I long for
It has been quite sometime
since, I felt this inside my heart
a happiness that's all mine.
I know it's out there somewhere
to the end, I must now go
walking down this lonely road
what to expect, I do not know.
embarking on this journey
is something I must do
I felt this emptiness for to long
and somehow I seen it through.
I can't let nothing get me down
I have to give all of me
I have to make it all the way
at the end, happiness waits for me.
poem by Bobby Kramer Jr.
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